The Grey Warden and The Magister
by Dalish She-Elf
Summary: Nora Merridew made a huge mistake in attempt to save her people. it worked but now she must live with the price. Can a certain grey warden help her deal with this price? Blackwallxoc Blackwall/oc rating may change. (slow update)


**I know, I know. I should be concentrating on wata and gaear! but this went into my mind I HAD to get it up. anyway I hope you like it.**

**R&R**

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><p>Crashes everywhere, screams coming from every room, pleading mothers crying out when their babies and husbands are killed, fathers scream of agony and pain, women kicking and screaming as the intruders take them, my people are being slaughtered and violated as I try to save them. What kind of leader am I when I cannot even save my own people? A horrid and pathetic one, that's what. I have no choice… the antivan bleeder is pulled from my boot and I slash my wrist. My magic swirls around with the blood in the air and a giant rage demon crawls up from the ground.<p>

"You… summon… me?" it ground out, its voice dark and intimidating. I stood taller, back straight and tried to look stronger than I actually am. Nodding, I found my voice.

"Yes I did. I require assistance. Kill the men that are laying siege upon my city."

"Payment?" I sigh, knowing what it wants.

"In 10 years you may take over my body." It nods and quickly makes it way through the manor, killing every bastard that threatens my home. The realisation of what I had just done shakes me, making me sick to my stomach. Tears threaten to slide down my cheeks. I grab my staff and rush to my brother's room. A scream sounds from inside and panic courses through my veins.

I kick the door down and notice a mabari with its blighted jaws stuck in my brothers leg and growling loudly as if my brother were a threat rather than just a mere boy. Quickly in rage, I stab it through its eye twice and pry its jaws off my brother leg. Using magic to heal his leg would be pointless. it would do nothing. It'd be better for the healer to heal his leg. My healing magic is atrocious.

"Nora! It h-hurts!" he wails at me, clutching me like a small babe. Seeing him like this… it's not right. Bellek will die for this.

"I know, Marc… I know. Come on. I'll carry you out" removing my staff from my back, I place my brother where it had resided and his arms wrap around my neck like a noose. His tears soak my neck and the blood near pours from his leg and down my armour. With my mana depleted, I leave the staff in his room and head for where the demon had went. It was in the courtyard, Belleks men surrounding it. The demon roars and the vast vibrations of the single roar knocks 3 of them in the wall. The impact instantly kills them. Only 4 of his men remain. My people are left in just a number of 6. I was too late in order to save them all. Over 30 dead… and its my fault. I should of seen belleks betrayal before it happened. The rest of my people surround my brother and me and they look at me. Relief lights up in their eyes which confuses me. How could they still stand to even see me after what I had done? I had use blood magic, the foulest of all magic. It's my fault that their families were killed! That some of them had been raped! I deserve nothing but death.

Lily my advisor pulls down one of the candlestick holders and a wall removes itself to reveal a dark and somewhat damp tunnel. The elven woman takes Marc from my back and he whimpers as the motion of being moved hurts his leg even more. My hands become alight as fire sits in my palm, it lights the way down the dark tunnel. Leading them down the tunnel, the tears finally find their way down my face. How could they still follow me? I am no leader. I am no lead to salvation. In 10 years I will be… I will be an abomination. The tunnel leads to the forest outside. Birds are silent and the animals stay away almost as if they know the terror that has become of my manor and my people. The trees loom over us and the glimmer of the fire in my palms does nothing to warm the cold sensation in my stomach.

They all know I did blood magic. How could they still treat me like a leader? After trekking far enough to be away from my blasted manor. We make camp and I fine that together there are 8 of us. Lily is an older elven woman, no more than 60 years of age. She is a mage also but she concentrates on spirit healing while my magic is only elemental however mindblast is a spell I quite frequently use. Her hands shine a bright green as my brother's leg begins to heal. I smile wearily; she has been the only mother figure I had since mother had died in childbirth with Marc. I must lead my people to a new home, away from Tervinter, somewhere safe, away from treachery and pain. Lily comes up to me, her red hair falling from her braid. Her hands grip mine she stares at me, only motherly love residing in her eyes.

"I know how you feel about blood magic, but what you did was necessary. If not, then all of us, even Marc would be dead. We are all grateful and we will follow you till the end, my lady." The tears flow freely now, and she hugs me gently.

"Thank you Lily... Thank you all." She lets go and the rest of my people crowd round the campfire. Their voices slowly join in to one and a song is the only thing that can be heard.

My mind had made itself up. I will lead my people to Skyhold and we will aid the inquisition in whatever they need of us and I will seek my punishment.


End file.
